


The Quest For Mr. Holmes

by RSMelodyMalone, Tindomerelhloni



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: BAMF John, BAMF Mycroft, BAMF Sherlock, F/M, Feels, Hostage Situations, Hurt, Husbands, John Watson - Freeform, Johnlock - Freeform, Kidnapping, M/M, Pain, Parentlock, Riddles, Sherlock Holmes - Freeform, just for fun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-04
Updated: 2014-11-11
Packaged: 2018-02-19 20:47:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2402336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RSMelodyMalone/pseuds/RSMelodyMalone, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tindomerelhloni/pseuds/Tindomerelhloni
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John and Sherlock are happily married. They've set up a lovely life for themselves, everything was going well. </p><p>That is.. until Jim decided he wanted to wish them a happy anniversary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Happy Anniversary

**Author's Note:**

> This is officially a "Feels Wednesday" Story. 
> 
> RsMelodyMalone and I will be updating this every Wednesday. 
> 
> With all our love, 
> 
> The Evil Queen Regina (RSMelodyMalone)  
> And Rumpelstiltskin (Myself)
> 
> Elvish words that will be used through out the Fic:
> 
> Ada - Father  
> Hína - Child

John woke up, Sherlock was still asleep curled up in his arms. Judging by the smile on his face he was clearly off in a land where cases were always above a 7 and danger lurked around each corner.

 

John slipped out of bed, fixed the blankets around Sherlock's too thin frame and shrugged into some clothes. Grabbing some paper he left a note:

 

_**"Hello, my idiot. I went out to get us some tea, and those little donuts with jelly in them. I know how much you love them. I wont be long.** _

_**  
**_

_**-JWH** _

 

**_P.S. Happy anniversary!"_ **

 

An hour or so later Sherlock woke up, stretched and felt John's side of the bed empty and cold. Sitting up he called out, "John!" No answer.

 

Grabbing the sheet and wrapping it around himself he sauntered out to the kitchen where he saw John's note. Smiling he read it. Walking back to the bedroom he grabbed his phone to send John a text. Hitting the home button his eyes shot open wide. 5 missed texts.

 

_**"These donuts are delicious! Your husband has good taste."** _

_**  
**_

_**"Really, does John let you sleep in this late?"** _

_**  
**_

_**"I'm getting very impatient, Sherlock."** _

_**  
**_

_**"Your tea is cold... Don't mind if I throw it out..."** _

_**  
**_

_**"Where it all began, Sherlock... before it is too late."** _

 

With the last text there was a picture... Of John slumped in a corner, blood oozing from a gash on his temple, lip cracked open, and a leg bending in the wrong direction.

 

Dialing Lestrade's number, Sherlock click speakerphone and threw his phone onto the bed racing to get clothes on.

 

_"Sherlock, Hi. It's..."_

_  
_

_"Lestrade! Pool! NOW. He has John."_ Panic tearing through his voice Sherlock had to remind himself he was no good to John if he was panicking.

 

Lestrade needed no explanation. There was protocol in place for such an awful occasion.

 

Texting Mycroft all he had to say was: _**"It's happened, pet. Pool... Quickly"**_

 

Sherlock arrived at the pool just as Lestrade and Mycroft showed up in an unmarked car. No uniforms... Jim would know that were here... but this didn't involve the police. This was a family matter.

 

Hand in hand Mycroft and Greg walked silently up to Sherlock. Sherlock nodded grimly and lead the way into the pool. Once inside Mycroft put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder and handed him a gun.

 

_"Just in case, brother... We should all be armed. No more second chances."_

 

Sherlock took the gun, clicked the safety off and stuffed it in his waistband.

 

_"Th-thank you, Myc..."_ voice choking with emotion Sherlock shut his mouth and walked into the pool.

 

Jim was there, lounging on a raft in the middle of the pool, hands folded on his lap, carelessly holding a gun.

 

_"I'm here. What now, Jim?"_ Sherlock's voice was strong, but he couldn't stop the tear from slipping down his cheek. Greg and Mycroft walked up to either side of him, both putting an arm on Sherlock's shoulder. Speaking up, Mycroft said, _"No, we're here."_

 

Jim laughed and moved the raft to the shallow end of the pool. Standing up he waded to the stairs and got out, water dripping down his suit.

 

_"Thought you didn't like getting your suits dirty?"_ Sherlock tried to keep his eyes fixed on Jim. Desperately trying to find John out of the corner of his eyes.

 

_"Well, your charming husband saw to it that some of his blood got on me... So, I guess you can say I have a play suit now."_

 

Sherlock's eyes darted to Jim's legs. Sure enough, blood spatter... It was only from the head wound.. Right?

 

_"So, Sherlock! Do you and your brothers wish to play?_

 

 


	2. Riddles In The Park

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Elvish used:  
> Ada-Father  
> Hína - Child

Chapter 2: Riddles In The Park

 

_"What makes you think I'm willing to play your game this time, Jim?"_ Sherlock raised his gun, walked over to Jim and pressed it to Jim's temple.

_"Oh, don't be ordinary, Sherlock!"_ Jim met eyes with Sherlock and turned so the gun was pressed into the middle of his forehead. "Oh, go on then."

_"Do NOT test me..."_ Sherlock's voice was cold and low, filled with anger.

_"Brother... We need him alive."_ Mycroft's voice was soft.

_"Jim, give me one reason why I shouldn't pull this trigger."_

_"Oh! So it is true! Mycroft IS the smarter one?"_ Grinning and giving a little chuckle Jim turned his attention to Sherlock.

_"Because, Sherlock, without me you'll never find your precious husband. Well.. you won't find him alive. I've made sure of that."_ Grinning Jim gingerly gripped the gun with his index finger and thumb and pulled it down to Sherlock's side.

Backing up a few steps Jim pulled a small box from his pocket.

_"Dearie me... I hope this didn't get too wet."_ Handing it to Sherlock he walked away. _"Happy anniversary! Enjoy the treasure hunt. Ciao!"_

Once Jim was out of sight Sherlock's shoulders slumped. With shaking hands he opened the box, inside was a rolled up piece of paper. Sherlock looked up at Mycroft before handing over the box while unrolling the paper.

In sapphire blue ink was one line.

**_"Where can you find a cathedral in the middle of the Thames?"_ **

_"A riddle? He kidnaps my husband and gives me a FUCKING RIDDLE?"_

_"Calm yourself, Sherlock..."_ Sherlock cut Mycroft off.

_"CALM MYSELF? Are you serious."_ Tears welling up in his eyes he looked between Mycroft and Greg. _"What does this even mean? A cathedral in the middle of the Thames? What the hell does that mean?"_

Handing the box to Greg, Mycroft took his brother's shaking hands in his own. _"Brother... I promise you, we will figure this out. Just... let's get out of here. I fear he has eyes on us still."_

Getting in the car with Mycroft and Greg, Sherlock slumped against the window. Rubbing his face he took a deep breath and collected himself. _"Right. So we know that Jim has John, and by the state of the picture, John is in bad shape. Jim said... Treasure Hunt. This box has... a riddle! So the game is riddles. Solve this and.. and what?"_

_"Clearly the answer will lead us somewhere."_ Mycroft turned around from the front seat next to Greg and looked at Sherlock.

Looking in the rear-view mirror Greg asked, _"Yeah, but then what? Another riddle... or worse?"_ After receiving a cold look from Mycroft. _"Pet, we have to be prepared for the worst. I'm sorry... it's the cop in me."_

Pulling up his phone Sherlock looked at a map of the Thames, muttering to himself.. _“Westminster Abbey? No.. St. Pauls? No…”_ Changing the search to ** _‘Cathedrals on the Thames.’_**

_“Brother! What did you just say?”_

_“St. Pauls… No?”_ Looking up Sherlock gave Mycroft a quizzical look. Then both brothers said at the same time,

_“Vauxhall Bridge!”_

_“By the palace? What are you two Holmes boys on about?”_

_“The bridge, Graham!”_

_“Greg, brother..”_ Mycroft cut in

Sherlock gave him a look before continuing. _“How quickly can you get us there, or Should Mycroft call for a helicopter? I’ll explain on the way.”_

Flicking his lights and sirens on Greg put on a grim smile. _“From here… 10 minutes… 15 at most.”_

Talking fast Sherlock explained his theory to Greg with Mycroft cutting in here and there.

_“Vauxhall Bridge is known for its architecture… but what else?”_

_“It’s brass carvings, chiefly of people.”_

_“And the Architecture Statue is holding a scale model of St. James Cathedral! Which is on the bridge, OVER the water. This has to be the answer.”_ Sherlock had to grip the car door as Greg took off speeding over the streets of London.

12 minutes later they arrived at the bridge. Sherlock didn't even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before he was out, running towards the correct statue. Leaning over the bridge he saw the model of St. Peter’s and looked around. No sign of anything… wait! There! On the railing was a sapphire blue ribbon waving in the wind.

As he got closer to the ribbon Sherlock saw that attached to it, was another rolled up piece of  
paper. With shaking hands Sherlock untied the ribbon and brought it back to the car. Closing the door behind him, he sighed and unrolled the paper. Same scrawling handwriting in sapphire blue ink, but this time the punctuation marks were red. Blood.

**_“What art thou?” “I am Youth, I am Joy.”_ **

_“Oh!”_ Greg smiled and turned the car around speeding off in the direction of Buckingham Palace _“I know this one.”_

Mycroft looked at Greg in surprise. _“Poppet? What is it?”_

_“Well, Jim lead us to one statue, right? And that’s a Peter Pan reference. Hook asks Peter Pan ‘What art thou.’ And Pan replied, ‘I am Youth, I am Joy.’ I think we need to go to Kensington Gardens. There is a statue of Peter Pan there!”_

_“You can see why I married this man, can’t you, Sherlock!”_

_“Yes, now stop distracting your husband! Mycroft, what is the point of this? Having us drive over half of London?”_

_“I would assume, brother dear, to distract us.”_

Sherlock didn't say anything else, he was thinking about all the possible things Moriarty could do to his husband, he didn't want to go home, he didn't want to explain to Xander why his dad was not around. He shook his head in an attempt to get rid of those thoughts….

They were making a left into Cumberland Gate when he looked front and saw Mycroft and Greg holding hands. He wanted to have John, he wanted his husband back. If anything happened to him…

_“Lestrade… can you go faster?”_

“We are almost there Sherlock” said Greg, speeding through a red light.

They left the car in Queensway, didn't even bothering in locking it; Sherlock took off running inside, Greg and Mycroft behind him. Running quickly through the park Sherlock quickly came upon the statue of Peter Pan. Sure enough, tied around his hand, was a ribbon. This time it was green, with another rolled up note. Mycroft unrolled it while the other two men read over his shoulder.

A short poem was written in sparkling emerald green ink, punctuation marks red again. Sherlock blinked, shoving the thoughts of what part of John’s body the blood came from.

**_“The Queen fled her throne._ **   
**_To her Cousin, her life she gave._ **   
**_No mercy was she shown._ **   
**_Beheaded she was sent to her grave.”_ **

As the three men stood there baffled Sherlock’s phone buzzed. It was a text, from John’s number.

_**“Tick tock. That’s the sound of John’s life running out. - JM”** _

Sherlock’s hands flew to his hair and he started pacing. Mumbling facts about queens, and queens who have been beheaded. Despite the crowd of onlookers, Mycroft didn't have the heart to calm his brother down. He knew Sherlock needed to think, and this is how it needed to happen. Minutes passed, soon they were at the 10 minute mark, and neither of the men were any closer to an answer.

A mother and a young girl walked up to the statue, and the child pointed, laughing at Sherlock. Who was making quite the scene, waving his arms around.

_“Hush, Mary… you shouldn't point.”_ The mother quietly took the child’s hand and pulled her away.

_“Mary! Oooooh Yes! MARY!”_ Sherlock snapped out of his panicked state and grabbed his brother’s hands!

_“Mycroft! Mary! Queen Mary. She fled France and came to England, seeking protection from her cousin, the Queen of England. She was later beheaded for treason.”_  
  
Pulling out his phone Sherlock googled the address for the statue. _“Ohh…. Of course, what an idiot I've been! Mycroft, her statue is at St. Paul’s Cathedral! Greg, how quickly can you get us to Fleet Street?”_

_“Fast enough, hopefully.”_ Greg said, searching for the keys, as they ran towards the car.

They get in the car, sirens on speeding up quickly, they took a right to the Bishop's Bridge as Sherlock sunk deep into his thoughts...

**_It was mid September and Xander was learning how to walk, John was sitting on his chair calling for him, “Come on buddy, come to daddy.” the words sounded far, almost drifting away… Sherlock smiling as Xander hugged his dad, feeling proud of what he just accomplished._ **

A small smile crept over Sherlock’s face as he was pulled back to reality by Mycroft’s words.

_“Sherlock, brother”_

_“Yes?”_

_“I need you to focus on this, otherwise we may not succeed”_

_“Pet….”_ Greg said, frowning at Mycroft.

_“He is thinking too much, Poppet”._

Sherlock heard his brother but the memories didn't stop, he was not in control of his mind; John Watson, it was all he thought about. He looked at Mycroft and his husband, supporting each other and it almost brought tears to his eyes. His mind started drifting again…

**_Waking up, curled up in the arms of John Watson was the most amazing feeling he was ever going to experienced… or so he thought, until he experienced the morning curled up with Xander and his husband, the messy blond hair of his two favorite people, the bright blue eyes of his son, staring at him, just the smile of both John Watson and Xander made his entire day._ **

**_“Morni addy” Xander greeting him, with a sleepy voice and rubbing his adorable eyes._ **

**_“Morning, love” his husband in the other side of the bed._ **

The memory seemed so far away. Sherlock could barely hear his voice.

_“FUCK!”_ Lestrade’s voice brought him back to reality and Sherlock looked at him as he slaps the steering wheel. They were in the middle of traffic in Warwick Ln.

Mycroft put a hand in Greg’s shoulder.

_“Calm down, Poppet. The last thing we want is for all us to be out of control”_ as he leans over to kiss his husband on the cheek.

_“I can’t wait!”_ Sherlock snapped and opened the car door.

Sherlock started running, the cold winter wind in his face, he made a right onto Paternoster Square, his brain was on autopilot, and the only thing he could think of… The image of John’s leg bent at odd angles flashed into his mind. He shook his head to get rid of those thoughts… John HAD to be alive, he couldn't…. tears started rushing down his face. Blinking hard he came back to his sense and realized there were footsteps behind him. Turning around he put a hand on the gun Mycroft had given him earlier.

_“It’s us, brother,”_ said Mycroft, noticing the movement of Sherlock’s hands.

Nodding Sherlock turned back around and ran off in the direction of St. Paul’s, Greg and Mycroft on his heels.

Walking around St. Paul’s a ribbon caught their eyes. It was tied around the crown of Queen Mary. Sherlock’s heart sank at the crimson ribbon… The colors had gone from cool to warm. Does this mean John was close by? Greg opened the scroll as Mycroft tried to calm his brother down. This note was written in red… Blood. John’s blood.

**_“Summer days make me want to play._ **   
**_Hello, weather! What a beautiful day!_ **   
**_On the ground I see my bare feet._ **   
**_Everyone knows it’s time for a treat!_ **   
**_So what’s the answer to this riddle?”_ **

_“What the HELL does this mean?”_ Greg held the note up.

_“Poppet…”_ Mycroft gave Greg a warning look. Sherlock was already on the verge of losing it, he didn’t need any added frustration.

  
_“May I see the note? I need to see it. Please… Greg.”_

Greg gave Mycroft a questioning look. Mycroft gave a slight nod and Greg handed the note to Sherlock. Sherlock took it with surprisingly steady hands, only his flashing eyes gave away his emotion.

Shutting out the noise of the city, Sherlock went to his mind palace. Here he was able to visualize every clue, and every fact he had ever learned about Moriarty. All of this had a reason. Jim did not do random. All of this was for a reason. What reason? What had Mycroft said? “To distract us.” Distract us from what? Or, from where? Picturing the note Sherlock was trying to make sense of it when he felt a hand on his shoulders.

_“Little brother… does the word “Shoes” Mean anything? It’s the only thing I could get out of the riddle. The first letters of each line spell shoes.”_

_“Shoes… no… That doesn't ring….. SHOES! We need to get back to Baker Street. He has John at 221C.”_ Grabbing his phone he punched out a message to Mrs. Hudson.

**_‘Mrs. H, do NOT let Xander out of your sight.’_ **


	3. Jim

  
  
Oh it was like Christmas! John was fighting with a box of donuts, trying to get the door to 221B open. Jim walked up to John.  
  
“Oi! Mate, let me help with that.” _Taking the box from John._  
  
 _“Oh, thank you.”_ Opening the door John went to take the box back.  
Before John had a chance to recognize him, Jim stuck a needle into John's neck.  
  
 _"Nothing like a healthy dose of tranquilizer in the morning. Eh, Mr. Holmes?"_  
  
John's eyes shot open in anger as he recognized Moriarty.    
  
 _"What the bloody..."_ That's all John was able to get out before the tranquilizer kicked in.  
  
 _“Ohh.. this will be fun.”_  
  
It was dark. It was cold. It smelled damp and moldy. John was on the floor, hands tied behind his back, all he could see was Moriarty’s legs through the edge of his blindfold.  
  
 Moriarty was facing away from John. He was talking. No other legs, so must be on the phone.  
  
 _"Gooooood. Make my puppets dance."_  
  
The legs turned around walked over to John. Stopping inches from his face.  A hand grabbed John's collar and dragged him up I to a sitting position, shoving him roughly into a wall. Crouching low so he was eye to eye with John, Jim smiled.  
  
 _“Hello, Mr. Holmes? Or is it Watson-Holmes? Or do you just go by, Sherlock’s pussy?”_  
  
John blinked hard as the blindfold was ripped from his face. He tried to talk, but the sedative doesn’t let him, he wants to shout, scream at Jim. Tell him to leave Sherlock out of this. He wanted to protect his family.  
  
 _"Shall we get Xander in on this game too? I'm sure he would love a chance to prove he's as smart as his daddies."_  
  
John's eyes flashed with anger.  He fought against his bonds. His tongue felt like cotton. It stuck to the roof of his mouth and hurt like hell when he pulled it away.  
  
 _“L…Leave my family out of this.”_  
  
 _“Now where would the fun be in that, Johnny boy? Don’t get your panties tied up in a knot… Or does Sherlock not let you wear them?”_  
  
John wanted to punch Jim, to knock that grin off of his face. But struggle as he did, his hands didn’t budge from behind him. So he did the only thing he could think of. He spat in Jim’s face.  
  
Jim looked shocked for a moment then laughed.  
  
 _“But what kind of anniversary would this be, if I didn’t get the whole family involved?”_  
  
 _“Do what you want to me, I don’t care. Fucking kill me! But leave my son alone! Sherlock, WILL find you… And when he does, you’re face won't be as pretty, but if you touch Xander… I fear for you, Jim!”_  
  
 _“I appreciate the offer, Johnny…  But I don’t think you understand. I was planning on having my way with you anyway.”_ Laughing at John’s look of horror, _“Don’t be stupid, I’m not going to rape you. Oh, but I might beat you within an inch of your life. Depends on how quickly Sherlock can figure out that my riddles are just a decoy.”_  
  
With that Jim gave John a swift kick in the chest. John grunted and tried not to let the pain show.  
  
 _“Ooooh! I do believe that I broke a rib. And I’m just getting warmed up.”_  
  
Jim grabbed John’s shirt and pulled him up, ripping his shirt off. Punching his nose hard he sent John to his knees, blood pouring from his nose. Laughing Jim did a little dance, ending it with a swift punch to John’s right eye and another to his bottom lip.  It was too much for John.  John slumped from his knees to the floor.  
  
  
 _“This is so easy…. I thought it would be…. maybe.. boring, but I’m actually having fun._ ”  
  
John grunts, he doesn’t want to let out any sign of weakness, Sherlock WILL find him. He is sure of that, there’s nothing he can’t solve. He just had to hold out until then, until his husband found him.  
  
 _“He will find you.”_ it’s the only thing he could say.  
  
 _“Oh, I expect him to.”_ Jim giggled, after kicking John in the chest. The pain sent white hot flashes of light through John’s vision. Unable to hold on, John slipped into unconsciousness.  
  
  
  
 ** _...It was a nice afternoon in 221B, Sherlock was making tea while Xander and John were playing Operation. Sherlock glanced over every once in a while making disapproving noises when either one of them make a move he did not approve of, making Xander pull back and re-think his move. John shot him looks at him every time. John would never admit it, he thought that was very cute._**  
 ** _Xander looked up to his dad, both of them actually, every so often he would want to go to John’s office to “help” him out with the patients; sometimes he was rude to people, and that reminded John that he was his father’s son, But he was often polite and liked to ask questions, he would write the answers in a little notebook he always carried with him, saying it was “ for an experiment”._**  
 ** _Xander often liked to deduce people, even though he didn’t always get it right.  And often he stayed at 221B to meet with clients with his parents. It was one of his favorite pastimes, he took notes and run around thinking to himself.  When the clients finally left Xander would talk to Sherlock about them. They would sit down over tea, and Sherlock would listen to him, smiling and nodding at his deductions, correcting him when ever necessary._**  
  
 ** _“But, Ada… he was clearly lying.”_**  
  
 ** _“Not necessarily, he was very nervous but, that does not mean he was not lying, you have to learn to differentiate the two Hína.”_**  
  
 ** _Xander pouts and Sherlock pats him in the back._**  
  
 ** _“You will learn, I’ll help you, I promise.”_**  
  
 ** _“Thanks Ada.”_**  
  
Something cold makes John woke up. Jim was standing over him with a bucket. Shaking his head to get the water off of his face, John winced at the pain. Opening his good eye a little more he saw that Jim was inches from his face.    
  
 _“Wakey, Wakey.”_ Jim said grinning. _“I’m not done with you yet, Johnny boy.”_  
  
Dragging John across the room by his belt, Jim shoved him up into a chair. Grabbing John’s hair Jim threw John’s head back. Stepping back he looked John over.  
  
 _“You’re resilience is impressive. Let’s see how you do after this…”_  
  
Picking up a baseball bat Jim walked around John a few times. John tried to follow him, with his eyes. Coming to a sudden stop in front of John, Jim brought the baseball bat down hard on John’s left leg with a crack. The force and the pain caused John to fall to the ground, hitting his head hard on the floor and knocking him out again.  
  
  
  
 ** _Christmas morning, Xander was 3. John and Sherlock were sharing a few moments alone when Xander bounded into the room._**  
 ** _“Daddy! Ada!”  Xander squealed as he jumped on the bed. “Santa came!!”_**  
 ** _John shot Sherlock a look. Reminding him that he was not to tell Xander that Santa wasn’t real._**  
 ** _Grabbing Xander by the waist and pulling him between himself and John, Sherlock chuckled._**  
 ** _“I’m sure he did, Hína. But, we need breakfast before presents!”_**  
 ** _“But, Ada!” Xander whined and looked over at Daddy._**  
 ** _“Hey, if Ada wants food, then that’s what we’ll do first!_**  
 ** _The three boys got out of bed, Xander ran into the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling out the milk._**  
 ** _“Cakes, Ada! Cakes!” After shoving the milk into Sherlock’s hands he sat at the table and rested his elbows on the table, head in his hands._**  
 ** _“Yes, Xander, pancakes sounds wonderful. John, love, would you make tea?”_**  
 ** _“Yes, but you boys better not get flour all over the kitchen this time.”_**  
 ** _“Well, it’s hardly my fault Xander makes a mess when he stirs.”_**  
 ** _After pancakes, a flour covered Xander was bouncing up and down on his toes in front of the Christmas tree.  John has his arms wrapped around Sherlock, kissing his husbands cheek._**  
 ** _“I love this, I love you, Happy Christmas, husband.” Reaching into the pocket of his dressing gown John pulled out a small box. “No guessing, just, open it.”_**  
 ** _Smiling Sherlock opened the box, inside was a pair of keys. Sherlock looked at John questioningly._**  
 ** _“Keys?”_**  
 ** _“Mmm, I got us a house.. I understand if you don’t want to leave Baker Street. But, it can be our getaway. Some place to take Xander, it has a yard, and a long driveway where he can learn to ride a bike. Oh, I can’t wait for you to see it.”_**  
 ** _“John…”  Sherlock grabbed John’s face and kissed him. “Remind me to properly thank you later, during nap time.”_**  
 ** _Clapping his hands Sherlock crouched down and ruffled Xander’s hair. “Now! One present from each of us, before Nana and Poppa get here.”_**  
  
John woke up in the corner to a blinding light.  
  
 _“Sorry, mate. Just taking a picture for the album. We’re making such wonderful memories here. I should send this to Sherlock. Show him how much fun we’re having.”_  
  
John didn’t struggle.The pain was unbearable. He closed his eyes again, maybe if he closed them hard enough he could see Xander again. He cringed as Jim stuck his hands into his pocket and took out Jim’s phone. How could a man, as cold as Jim be so warm…  
  
Jim walked to the other end of 221C. The box of donuts caught his attention. Stuffing a donut into his mouth he sighed. It was time to get Sherlock involved. Using John’s phone he laughed as he typed out a message.  
  
 ** _"These donuts are delicious! Your husband has good taste."_**  
  
Jim waited a few minutes before checking his watch. It was half ten. Punching in another message.  
  
 ** _"Really, does John let you sleep in this late?"_**  
  
Waiting another ten minutes he tapped out another message.  
  
 _ **"I'm getting very impatient, Sherlock."**_  
  
 ** _"Your tea is cold... Don't mind if I throw it out..."_**  
  
 ** _"Where it all began, Sherlock... before it is too late."_**  
  
  
  
As he was walking back over to John he sent the picture.  
 _“So, I just sent your husband the picture. I’m sure he’ll love it. I’m going to leave you here, try to make yourself comfortable.”_  
  
Gagging John and making sure his wrists were tied securely, Jim roughly tied John’s ankles together, rewarding him with a scream as he pulled on John’s broken leg. Taking a small vial from his pocket he punched John in the mouth one more time, blood splattering over his legs. Holding the vial up to John’s mouth he filled it with his blood.  
  
Walking outside and getting into his car Jim smiled. All was going to plan, now he just needed to set the traps, and watch the Holmes brothers dance.  
  
 _“Sir?”_ Jim was startled from his thoughts. _“You said you required my help?”_  
  
 _“Yes. I need you to places these…”_ Jim some rolled up paper from his pocket and started writing. Every now and then dipping his pen in the vial of John’s blood. With the last note, only John’s blood was used.Tying each one to some ribbons. Stuffing them in envelopes Jim handed them over.  
  
 _“You’ll find instructions on the envelops. Don’t disappoint me.”_  
  
 _“And ruin the foreplay? Of course not, Sir.”_ Leaning over he grabbed Jim’s face and kissed him hard.  _“See you at home?”_  
  
Blinking and licking his lips after the kiss Jim gave Sebastian a crooked grin.  
  
 _“Yes, I’ll see you there. Now get out of the car, I want to see that ass of yours.”_  
  
Sebastian climbed out of the car, wiggling his ass and looking back at Jim, who leaned out of the car to slap it.  Laughing Jim shut the door and instructed the driver to start driving. Pulling out John’s phone he searched the contacts.  
  
 _“Aahh, Xander, I think daddy should send you a text now.”_  
  
 ** _“I just wanted to let you know that Ada and I aren’t getting along. I don’t think I’ll be home when you get back.”_** Pocketing John’s phone,  Jim giggled. Everything was going as planned.  
  
Arriving at the pool Jim smiled. Blowing up and inflatable raft he placed it by the stairs to the pool. Pulling a gun and his phone out of his pocket he stepped into the water placing both the phone and the gun on his chest he laid down on the raft. Now, all he had to do was wait for Sherlock to show up.  
  
He pushed off the side of the pool. Closing his eyes Jim grinned. He and Seb had been together for years. They met when Jim hired him to assassinate John if Sherlock didn’t kill himself. Sebastian's military training was priceless. He was the one who had shown Jim how to fake his death. They spent two years lying low.  
  
 ** _The first night they were on the run Sebastian helped Jim hide in the dead center of London. They made love to the news that Sherlock Holmes was dead. Jim felt like he was on drugs, high all the time. Sherlock Holmes was dead, and he had a handsome Ex Military man in his bed with him._**  
 ** _Seb showed him how to slightly alter his appearance. Enough so the CVTC couldn’t pick him up easily. All by changing the shape of his eyebrows, and shaving his hair._**  
 ** _“It’ll grow back, Sir. I’m sorry, but we have to shave it off. They know what you look like.”_**  
 ** _“I know. Do it, Seb.” Jim looked in the mirror as Sebastian held the clippers to his head._**  
 ** _By the time Sebastian was done, Jim hardly recognized himself. He had a short, blond military haircut, bleached eyebrows that were reshaped and way too thin, and he was in just jeans and a t-shirt._**  
 ** _“Damn! You… you look Hot, Sir.”_**  
 ** _Jim raised an eyebrow_**  
 ** _“You’re gay? How did I not see that?”_**  
 ** _“Well.. being gay in the military is usually frowned upon.. I learned to hide it.”_**  
 ** _Jim turned around, brushing loose hair off of his neck, and stood in front of Sebastian. He had to look up, to meet the tall man’s gaze.  Walking around Sebastian, Jim took in every inch of him._**  
 ** _“Hm…”  Running his hands down Sebastian's back Jim shuddered as electricity coursed through his veins.  He had never felt this alive before. Never felt so much, from one touch._**  
 ** _“Take your shirt off.” Jim instructed, catching Sebastian’s eyes again._**  
 ** _Sebastian let a small smile creep over half his mouth as he raised his arms, pulling his shirt off. Jim walked up close, wrapping his arms around him, running them up and down his chest. Running his hands down Sebastian's body he stopped at his belt. Playing with the buckle he met no complaints, so he slowly worked the buckle off. Both men started breathing harder in anticipation, neither voicing their desires. Jim spun Sebastian around and looked at him, trying to read his mind. Running his hands down Sebastian’s legs he let out a low growl._**  
 ** _“Strip for me. Now.”_**  
 ** _Within ten minutes, both men were naked and slamming each other up against whatever surface was nearby. The next day they were both covered in bruises, but Jim had never been so happy to be in hiding in his life._**


	4. Xander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize that this one is a bit shorter. I write everything on google Docs. I don't have any programs on my computer for writing. (Well, Notes, but that's lame) And my internet has been on hiatus. So I haven't had much time to write. I have a TON hand written, but I have to type it all up, and for that I need internet. That is also why you are getting this a little early, I'm posting it while my internet is working!!
> 
> *Hits post before my internet realizes it's working*

Xander and Ms. H

 

They arrived at the house late, Xander was causing a scene because he wanted to stay at 221B with his parents. He really didn’t understand what was all the fuss about an anniversary.  
  


_“Darling, take your shoes to the bedroom, we don’t want to make a mess in here.”_  
  


Xander rolled his eyes. _“I’m already in the bedroom, can you bring them here? Please?"_  
  


Ms. Hudson took the shoes and put them in Xander's closet.  
  


_“I’m not your housekeeper.”_  
  


Xander chuckles. “Alright.”  
  


He then proceeded to put pajamas on and went to the kitchen where Ms. Hudson was making tea.  
  


_“Do you want some cocoa, Xander?”_  
  


_“Yeah, that would be nice, thanks."_  
  


Sitting down at the table Xander pulled out a chemistry book. Cupping his mug with both hands Xander leaned over the book.  
  


_"Homework, dear?"_  
  


_"No. This was a present from Ada. I think to keep me happy this weekend. Auntie... Can I help you make dinner tonight?"_  
  


 _"Pancakes?"_ Mrs. Hudson smiled as she ruffled his hair.  
  


 _"Of course!  You know, this weekend might not be a total bust. At least I'll get a chance to beat you in mastermind."_ Xander gave Mrs. Hudson a Charming smile.

  
 _“Auntie! That’s not right! It’s too hot, you’ll burn the pancakes.”_   Turning the stove off Xander looked through the cupboards and gave a joyful shout when he found the electric griddle. _“This! This is what Dad uses.”_  
  


Holding up her hands in mock surrender, Mrs. Hudson chuckled. _“Fiinnee, fine, you cook, I’ll do the dishes. Does that sound fair?”_  
  


_“You mean I’m off dishes duty for the night? You’re on!”_  
  


Xander rushed around the kitchen, gathered all the ingredients required and plugged in the electric griddle. Humming happily the 8 year old started whipping together the pancake mix.  
  


 _“Xander… why the bloody hel… heck… are you mixing vinegar and milk?”_  
  
 _“It’s ok, Auntie.. Dad says worse around me. I’m mixing the two, because we don’t have buttermilk. Obviously.”_  
  
Putting her hands up Mrs. Hudson laughed and walked out of the room. Twenty  minutes later Xander called her to the table to a heaping stack of pancakes. Sitting down, the two ate and laughed, Xander finally forgetting that he was cross for being sent away for the weekend. After dinner Mrs. Hudson even let him make his own Ice Cream Sundae.  
  


Moving into the living room Xander pulled out mastermind and jumped up and down happily.   _“Please, please, please, can we play now!? Please, Auntie! Just one game?”_

  
_“Yes, dear. We can play. But first, can you call your fathers? I’m sure they’ll be… busy, but would love to hear from you before bed. I’ll set up my pattern while you’re on the phone.”_  
  


Xander ran to his room and dug his phone out of his backpack. It wasn’t anything special, just a relatively indestructible flip phone, meant for emergencies. Dialing his dad’s number he screwed his face up in annoyance as it rang out. Calling Ada’s, the phone was finally picked up on the fifth ring. A somewhat out of breath John picked up the phone.  
  


****_“Hello, Xander! Get there safe?”_  
  


__**“Uh… yeah. Why are you out of breath?”**  
  


 ** _“Um…”_** Xander could hear Sherlock’s muffled laughter in the background. **_“Uh, we… Groceries. Ada made me carry them up myself.”_**  
  
 **** _“Oh. Yeah, better you than me. Anyway, Auntie wanted me to call. Said something about you being busy later.”_  
  


__**“Hmm? Oh, yeah… Hold on Xander.”**  
  


Xander tapped his foot as he heard a loud noise, some shuffling, laughter from both his parents and some weird jingling. That didn't sound like groceries.  
  


 ** _“Ok sorry, your father was a bit tied up, but wanted to talk to you.”_ ** John sounded out of breath again, and he handed the phone to Sherlock.  
  


 ** _“Hína!”_** Sherlock’s voice seemed distant but genuinely pleased.  
  


 ** _“Hi, Ada. What’s going on. Dad said groceries… but..”_ **  
  
**_“Oh, just… stuff.”_** Sherlock only said stuff when he was avoiding the truth, and Xander wasn't sure if he wanted to know. **_“So, what have you done tonight?”_**  
  


Xander perked up. **_“Auntie let me cook! We had pancakes. Then we had ice cream, and now we’re going to play mastermind. I might actually get a chance to win."_**  
  


 ** _“Go for a solid set of colors. It’ll throw her for a loop. She’ll be busy trying to outsmart you that she won’t figure it out._** ” Sherlock chuckled into the phone.  
  


****_“Oooh! Thanks, Ada. I love you both. Tell dad for me, ok?”_  
  


****_“We love you too, Hína. See you tomorrow evening. Don’t be too mean to Mrs. Hudson.”_  
  


Hanging up, Xander put the phone back in his bag and bounded out to the living room. Sitting cross legged on the floor, he leaned over the coffee table and made his first guess. Three colors right, one wrong, and two out of the three were in the wrong spot. This was going to be easy. Five guesses later he had guessed correctly.  
  


 _“My turn!”_ He chose four blue and sat back, stifling a giggle.  
  


 _“I don’t know what you’re playing at, Alexander Holmes…”_ Mrs. Hudson chuckled and started guessing. Four games later Mrs. Hudson gave up.  
  


_“Alright, what were your patterns?”_ ****__  
  


_“Four blue, each game.”_ Xander was laughing and rolling around the floor, holding his sides.  
  


 _“I have half a mind to send you to bed, young man! Cheating? I blame Sherlock.”_ Laughing Mrs. Hudson picked up the game and put it away. Just then Xander let out a yawn and rubbed his eyes. _“Hmm maybe bed isn’t such a bad idea after all. Off you go. Go brush your teeth.”_  
  


Ten minutes later Xander was curled up in bed, Chemistry book on his chest, trying to blink the sleep from his eyes. _“Night Auntie. I had fun tonight. I love you.”_  
  
Kissing Xander on the forehead Mrs. Hudson brushed a blond curl from his face. _“Goodnight, dear. I always have fun with you, even when you do cheat!”_ She winked then turned the main light off. _“Don’t stay up too late. Ok?”_  
  


 _“Mmmhmm.”_ Sleepily flipping a page, Xander read the same sentence over three times before putting the book under his pillow and turned the bedside light off.  
  


The next morning Xander woke up to the smell of one of Mrs. Hudson's famous breakfasts. Grabbing his blanket and wrapping it around his shoulders he walked out to the kitchen. Rubbing his eyes and smiling he grinned as a healing plate was placed in front of him.  
  


 _"Morning sleepyhead."_ Mrs. Hudson ruffled his hair before fixing herself a plate. _"So much like your father. It amazes me."_ Xander flashed her his most charming smile.  
  


 _“Morning Auntie.”_ He said, making a point to fix his hair before taking a bite of his food.  
  


_“What would you like to do today.”_  
  


 _“Well, I have homework…”_ Xander mumbled around a mouthful of sausage.  
  


 _“Alexander!”_ Mrs. Hudson tutted. _“Don’t be like John. Chew your food, then talk.”_  
  


Swallowing his food Xander smiled sheepishly. _“Sorry, Auntie.”_ Then shoved half a piece of toast into his mouth.  
  


_“I swear! I need to teach the three of you table manners.”_  
  


_“Well, for that, you’d actually need to get Ada to eat!”_  
  


**_* Later that Morning *_ **

 

Xander rubbed his eyes and looked at his watch. All of his homework was done, and it was only mid morning! He decided to go call his parents and wish them a happy anniversary. He’d call Dad first. Ada usually ignored his phone until it was shoved into his face. Flipping his phone open he frowned. He had a text message from dad. Dad never sent him texts.  
  


_“I just wanted to let you know that Ada and I aren't getting along. I don’t think I’ll be home when you get back.”_  
  


Panicking a little Xander tried to call his dad. There was no answer, something was going on, and he had to find out what it was.  
  


 _"Auntie, I'm going out!"_ Xander shoved his feet hastily into his shoes, frantically looked around the room for his coat and scarf, and grabbed his backpack.  
  


 _"Ok, dear."_  Mrs. Hudson smiled, but didn't look up from her laptop. She was probably talking to Mrs. Turner on Facebook again.  
  


Xander felt a pang of guilt.  He had never lied to his parents or Mrs. Hudson before. But... He hadn't lied, fully. He just left out where he was going. Was it his fault that Auntie just thought he was going outside to play?  
  


Walking a few blocks to the bus stop, Xander stood and waited. He wished he knew the schedule for the buses out here. Deciding to call John again he pulled his phone out of his backpack.  
  


****_“Hi! You've reached John. Either I can’t come to the phone, or Sherlock has hidden it from me. Leave me a message. If this is an emergency, text Sherlock. He won't answer your phone call.”_  
  


 _“Hey dad, Um… you sent me a text, and it just… um… call me?”_ Xander stuttered into the phone, wishing he hadn't left a message. Punching Sherlock’s number in he started typing in a message. Halfway through it he decided against it.  
  
Sitting on the grubby bench, Xander steeples his fingers under his chin, and tapped his foot. Playing over the text from his dad, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was horribly wrong. When he talked to his parents last night they seemed happy. A little too happy, the happy they got when he slept over his Uncles house, or a friends.  
  


He was startled out of his pondering when a bus pulled up. Making sure it was London bound he hopped on. Soon he’d be home, and then he could ask his parents in person what was going on.


	5. Reunion

He was incredibly nervous, he had never done anything like this before, and he had a bad feeling. Something was wrong with his parents. His stomach started to grumble, his body always acted up when he was nervous. Looking out the window at the houses passing by he had to try had to keep his mind from drifting off. His imagination always played tricks on him when he was scared.

 

_Arriving home the flat seemed empty, “Ada?, Dad? Auntie? where is everyone?” then a man appeared out of nowhere, from the shadows. “Everyone is gone! you are alone”_

_“No, they can’t, they won’t leave without me”_

_“Of course they will” the man had a cold,  robotic voice “You are nothing but a burden to your parents. They could solve many more cases if it weren't for you. London would be safer without you. You hold them back kid, you should be punished for all those times they had to pick you up from school instead of helping Scotland Yard.”_

_Tears started rolling through his face,  he didn’t want to believe this man. But it was affecting him, this creepy man was right, he wasn't as smart as Ada, he was not kind like Dad. Dad could keep up with Ada, he helped him solve so many cases Xander had lost track. While Xander was only there, doing nothing just dead weight, needing to be picked up from school, or helped with homework._

 

He woke up with a start, tears were rolling down his face. An old lady was looking at him, he looked down to avoid her gaze. Looking in his backpack he check his phone. A missed call from Ada. Must of called when he was sleeping. Maybe Auntie realized he was missing and called him… Looking back up the woman was still watching him.

 

“You ok, dearie?”

 

“I’m fine. Just going back home. Had a fight with a friend.” He said, before she could ask him anything else, answering questions from strangers was annoying and he couldn’t deal with it right now.

 

He thought about calling Uncle Greg to tell him about what he had done and ask him if he knew anything about his parents. He decided against it, he would just tell Uncle Myc... And that wouldn't end well. The bus would be ordered to stop, heck, all of London would shut down until Xander was safely in the back of Uncle Myc’s car, probably heading back to the cottage to a very cross Mrs. Hudson.

 

Xander was glad he had thrown his chemistry book in his backpack. This ride seemed endless. Opening the book a piece of paper slipped into his lap. Why hadn't he seen this last night?

 

**_To Xander:_ **

**_ My son, my light, my love. I hope this book keeps you company this weekend. I know won't like being sent off this weekend. I know you want to celebrate with your dad and I, and you will, but a little alone time will do us wonders. _ **

"They want time away from me. Maybe he was right. Maybe I'm just a burden. Maybe I shouldn't go home, just keep going."  Tears were welling up in his eyes. He had to blink a few times before he could continue reading.

**_ This does not mean we don't want you, Xander. When you're older I promise you'll understand. We will see you late Sunday evening! Until then, keep your chin up and don't drive Auntie insane. Well, no more than usual! _ **

****

**_Ada._ **

 

**_P.s.  Check out page 53, how mad do you think dad will be if we do that in the tub?_ **

 

Xander turned to page 53 and a small smile crept over his face. There was a recipe for creating "relaxing fizzy bath bombs." Knowing Ada, it would be more bomb than fizz and there would be nothing relaxing about it. Dad would get mad, mainly at the mess he and Ada would make.

 

Xander’s phone buzzed. Closing the book he pulled his phone out of his bag and looked at the screen. It was Auntie. It had taken her a full 20 minutes to realize he was missing. Closing his phone he sighed, he had never felt this guilty in his life. And all for what? Over a text?  

 

Xander read half of the book before finally arriving in London. This bus didn’t take him directly to Baker Street. He’d have to walk 3 blocks. If his parents didn’t kill him for this bus ride, the would certainly kill him for having to walk that far by himself. Especially seeing no one knew where he was.

 

Wrapping his scarf around his neck he braced himself against the december wind. Under different circumstances, he would have been excited. Storm clouds were blowing in, promising a snowstorm. The streets were decorated for Christmas, some shops had music playing, but Xander couldn’t shake the feeling of dread that grew heavier the closer he got to home. He was either going to walk into two very upset parents, or one of his parents gone. What if… what if both were gone? What if he walked into an empty flat?

 

Turning the corner and walking onto Baker Street, Xander slowed down. From this side of the street his home looked the same. No lights on, but that didn’t mean anything. With shaking hands Xander shoved the key into the lock, but the door just swung open. Mrs. Hudson’s door was partly open.

 

“That’s odd... Dad! Ada!” Xander called, running up the stairs, two at a time. No answer.

 

“Hello?”

 

Throwing his bag down on the couch he grabbed his phone and ran through the flat. No one was home. He sat down in Sherlock’s chair and buried his face in his hands. When he had no more tears to shed he got up, and picked up the sheet off the kitchen floor and brought it to his parent's room.

 

Walking back into the kitchen he saw a piece of paper on the floor. Picking it up he recognized it as one of the notes Dad was always leaving for Ada.

 

**_"Hello, my idiot. I went out to get us some tea, and those little donuts with jelly in them. I know how much you love them. I wont be long._ **

****

**_-JWH_ **

 

 ** _P.S. Happy anniversary_**!"

 

“What the heck is going on!” Xander spoke to the paper, “Why would Dad write this,  then send me that text. What is going on!” Xander decided it was finally time to call Ada, Dad would have called back had he gotten his message. Sherlock picked up on the second ring, his voice was full of panic.

 

 _“Xander?”_ It was a question, not a statement.

 

_“Ada, where are you?”_

 

 _“Where are you!”_  Xander had never heard Sherlock sound so desperate before.

 

 _“At the flat…”_ He hung his head in shame even though no one was around to witness.

 

_“Oh, Xander… Where is Mrs. Hudson?”_

_“At the cottage…. Ada, don’t be..”_

__  
  


_“Now is not the time, Alexander. We will talk about later. Are you safe?”_

 

Xander didn’t know how to answer. He had never seen his father panicked. _“Alexander”_ was only used when he was in immense trouble.

 

_“Are. You. Safe?”_

 

_“Yes, Ada. I’m alone in the flat. But, Auntie’s door was open.”_

 

Sherlock gasped, and obviously was talking to someone else. _“Xander’s home, and he isn’t alone!”_

 

_“Xander, listen to me. You are not alone. Lock the doors and go up into your room, and lock that door. It won't stop him, but it will slow him down. We’re five minutes away!”_

 

He could hear muffled voices in the background, it sounded like Uncle Greg. _"Yes! Backup! Maximum backup at bakerstreet! NOW!"_ Followed by a horn blaring and _"Bollocks."_

 

 _“Ada.. What is happening? What is..”_ a noise interrupted him, someone was opening a door downstairs. He dropped his voice to a whisper, _“Ada… is that you? Please, tell me that’s you, that you’re home. Ada, I’m scared!”_

 

_“FUCK, Greg!!! Faster, NOW! Xander, stay on the phone with me, we’re close, I promise. Keep talking to me.”_

 

 _“ADA!”_ Xander screamed as a hand grab a hold of him.

 

The last thing Sherlock heard was a clatter and a muffled scream. Punching the back of Mycroft’s chair he swore.

 

“If he hurts my son… I swear to God!”

 

“I know, brother. We’ll find them. The good news is we’re close. Whoever is in Baker Street will not be able to leave without us, or the police knowing.”

 

Greg saw an opening in the traffic and took it. Pushing the pedal to the floor they shot down Marylebone Rd.

 

“Hold onto your hats, Gents. I’m going to go down Baker Street the wrong way. It’s faster than looping up and around…” Greg slammed on his turn signal and tool a left onto Baker Street, narrowly avoiding a taxi. Sherlock check, the taxi was empty.

 

Slamming the car into park the three Holmes men got out of the car. Greg was in full D.I. mode barking orders. The sirens in the distance promised backup soon.

 

“Mycroft, you check upstairs in the flat! It’s probably empty, but I need your eyes, I need you to tell me what happened. Sherlock you’re with me. We’ll check Mrs. Hudson’s flat.”

 

“No, Greg! You go, I know he has my family in 221C. I know it.”

 

“Sherlock, we have to clear the flat first! It’s not safe!”

 

“I don’t care!” Sherlock slammed the car door and raced into 221b

 

**~Mycroft~**

 

Mycroft raced up the stairs. Xanders bag was next to Sherlock’s chair, there was a crumpled note on the floor. Scooping down and picking it up he saw that it was a note from John to Sherlock.

 

Other than the tell tale signs of Xander’s abduction, nothing seemed amiss in the sitting room. Putting his hand on his gun in his pocket and went to move into the bedroom.

 

“Drop the gun, Mr. Holmes. Hands up where I can see them.”

 

“Damn.” Mycroft half dropped and threw the gun to the floor, hoping it would be loud enough to alert Greg and Sherlock. Turning around he saw a tall, fit, ex military man in front of him, with a Glock pointed at his head.

 

“Have a seat, Mr. Holmes. Mr.Moriarty isn’t ready for you yet.”

 

**~Greg~**

Greg was just about to clear Mrs. Hudson’s bedroom when he heard a clatter up stairs.

 

“Bollocks.” He swore, kicking the bedpost.

 

“I assume you know what to do, Detective Inspector. Hands up, you’ll be with your husband soon.”

 

Greg dropped the gun and turned around to face the gun he knew was behind him.

 

“Upstairs, let’s go.”

  
  


**~Sherlock~**

 

Sherlock entered 221C with his gun drawn. Walking down the stairs he cursed the creaking wood. He was halfway down the stairs when Moriarty’s voice stopped him dead in his tracks.

 

“I’d drop that gun if I were you, Sherlock. I think Xander is scared.”

 

“Ada? Ada! Is that…” There was a grunt and the rest of Xander’s question got cut off. Sherlock stuffed the gun into the back of his waistband and rushed down the rest of the narrow stairs. Sherlock could hear Xander’s faint crying.

 

He rounded the corner and did a doubletake. John… his precious John was hogtied in the middle of the room, right where the shoes were all those ears ago. John was bruised from head to toe, his left leg was clearly broken. There was a pool of blood around his head. His chest was rising in slow ragged shallow breaths.

 

He tore his eyes off of his husband and he quickly found Jim with a death grip around Xander’s neck. Jim had a relaxed smile on his face, and Xander… Oh Xander. His son had a nasty bruise on his face.

 

“Have you enjoyed my anniversary present, Sherlock?” Jim waved his free hand at John and Xander.”

“No, can’t say that I have. Get. Your. Hands. Off. My. Son.”

 

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, Sherlock. You see, if I hand Xander over, then you would just shoot me. And where would the fun be in that?”

 

“FUN?” Sherlock roared, making Xander jump. He had never seen this side of his father before. “You think this is FUN? Fuck you, Jim! JUST FUCK YOU.”  Sherlock made to step closer to John.

 

“Oh, I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Sherlock.” Jim pulled a run out of his pocket and pressed it to Xander’s temple. “You see, Xander here is insurance for good old Uncle Jim. You never let him come over to play, so I think I’ll just take him for a little while.”

 

“Do NOT appall me when I am angry, Jim… Now, give me my husband and my son, and I’ll let you go.”

 

“I don’t believe you. How about you chose. Save your husband, or your son. Judging by John’s shallow breaths he has a punctured lung. He probably won’t last much longer. And if you don’t chose, I’ll just shoot him.”

 

Sherlock’s eyes fell to John. Jim was right, John didn’t have much longer to live. Between his shallow breaths, and the blood loss, if he didn’t get to a hospital soon… Xander was sobbing at Jim’s words.  
  
“Ada.. Please, don’t let dad die. Ada! Please!” He nearly screamed before Jim clamped a hand over Xander’s mouth.

 

“So, what will it be, Sherlock? Once my men and I are far enough away, I’ll message you with Xander’s location. I wont hurt him… much.”

 

Sherlock looked deep into his son’s bloodshot blue eyes and his heart sank. He had to save John, but would John ever forgive him for letting Xander go with Jim? As soon as Mycroft could, he would have eyes on Jim. He would not get far with his son.

 

“I will find you. I promise, Xander. But I can’t let your father die.” Xander tried to nod his head as the tears rolled down his face.

 

Sherlock took the gun out of his waistband and threw it across the room. Living up his jacket he showed Jim that he was not armed. “Please, Jim, Just let me hug my son.”

 

Jim rolled his eyes. “Sentiment, really, Sherlock? My my motherhood has changed you.” Despite his comment he pushed Xander towards Sherlock.

 

Sherlock knelt on the floor as Xander stumbled forward. With a flourish he wrapped his arms around Xander and pulled him into a hug. Whispering under his breath so Jim couldn’t hear, “I’ve slipped my phone into your pocket. Do not draw attention to it. GPS tracking is enabled on it. Your uncles and I will find you.”

 

Xander squeezed Sherlock tight in response and with a clear voice said, “Keep dad alive. He needs you right now.”  
  


“I will. Keep yourself safe.” Looking at Jim over Xander’s shoulder, “If you hurt one hair on my sons head… You will wish you had never been born. I can promise you that, Jim.”

 

Jim ignored Sherlock, but pulled out his phone, dialed a number and spoke two words before shoving it back into his pocket. “Fall back.”

 

“Well, it has been fun, Sherlock. But I think I’ll take my nephew here out for ice cream now.” Grabbing Xander by the hair he pulled him out of the room and up the stairs.

 

Rushing to John he check his pulse… it was painfully slow. He thought about carrying John up the stairs, but was too afraid to move him. Kissing his husbands forehead he rushed to the top of the stairs of 221C and shouted for Greg and Mycroft.

 

“Sherlock! A little help!” Mycroft sounded less than thrilled. He didn’t want to leave John, but he couldn’t move him by himself. Rushing up the stairs to 221B he found quite a sight. Greg and Mycroft were sitting back to back on the floor, thoroughly tied together.

 

“What the hell happened here?” Sherlock rushed to the kitchen to grab a knife and cut the ropes away.

 

“Someone named, Sebastian Moran, I believe, Brother.” Mycroft said, rubbing his wrists. Sherlock didn’t miss the slightly submissive, embarrassed looked that Mycroft gave to Greg as he was rubbing his wrists. Looking back at Sherlock he raised his eyebrow.

 

“Where is Xander? John?” Sherlock quickly explained what had happened. He wasn’t even done explaining about his phone before Mycroft was pacing the flat with his phone pressed to his ear. Greg rushed down the stairs, his own phone pressed to his ear, and Sherlock followed him.

 

“How far away? What the hell! We need an ambulance, NOW. John won’t make it. SALLY, NOW!” Back down in 221C Greg gasped when he saw John.

 

“It’s a wonder he survived this long, Sherlock…” Sherlock shot Greg a look that told him to shut up.

 

“Help me move him upstairs into the hall. I don’t want anything to delay the medics when they get here.” Carefully as they could the carried John upstairs. Mercifully John did not regain consciousness.

 

Sherlock was sitting on the floor with John’s head in his lap, softly brushing his blood matted hair from his face when the ambulance finally arrived. Two paramedics rushed in, took one look at John and loaded him on the stretcher, asking Sherlock questions about his condition.  Sherlock answered to the best of his ability. Guessing, unknowingly with surprising accuracy his husband’s injuries.

 

“Sir, will you be riding with us in the ambulance?”

 

“Uh…” Sherlock looked at Greg who nodded.

 

“We’ll take care of Jim and Xander. Go, be with John.”

 

Sherlock nodded and climbed into the back of the ambulance, and watched as they strapped John in and placed an oxygen tube on his nose.

 

“Will… will he make it?”

 

“I don’t rightly know, sir. He’s lost a lot of blood, he has a punctured lung, at least 3 broken ribs, his leg is in bad shape, the cuts on his lips will almost all require stitches, and this gash on his temple worries me. We’ll know more once we get him to the hospital.”

 

“May I hold his hand? I don’t want to get in your way.”

 

“Of course you can. We’re almost there. Don’t worry, Mr. Holmes, He made it this far, right?”

  
Sherlock gave the paramedic a small smile and turned his attention to John, willing him to live.


	6. Uncle Jim

~Xander and Jim~

  
  


“Come here kid, Uncle Jim is going to buy you ice cream, would you like that?”

 

Xander was a little confused and scared, was this man was serious? Was he really going to go buy him ice cream after almost killing his dad?

“Look sir, I don’t want ice cream… I just want my dad to be okay…”

“You will get some ice cream kiddo. Kids like ice cream, right?” Jim was grabbing Xander’s arm  so hard that he would have a bruise tomorrow. Taking long steps Jim dragged the boy to a large bright red limo parked down the street a little ways.

Xander couldn’t help but think that while his uncle Myc wanted to be discreet with his black cars, this man didn’t care at all. In fact, he seemed to want to be noticed. He had heard whispers about Jim, but no one had actually said much to him. Now he knew why, this man had his parents in a leash, he wasn’t sure how, he had NEVER seen Ada this upset or this scared before. And it made him afraid that he would lose his dad.

“Is there a certain flavor of ice cream that kids usually like?” Jim asked, seeming confused. Pulling out his phone he pressed the home button. “Siri, what kind of ice cream do kids like?”

“Hmm, let me think. Ok, I found this on the web for What kind of ice cream do kids like.”

“That’s not what I meant, you stupid bitch!” Looking over at Xander he blushed a little. “Oh, sorry kid. I’ll try to watch my language.”

“Listen, mister,  I really don’t care. You kidnap my dad, and beat him up and you even have his blood on your suit, then you kidnap me, but you’re worried about swearing? Maybe you aren't as smart as people say.”

Ruffling Xander’s hair Jim laughed. When Xander tried to swat his hand away he just laughed harder. “Kid, I like you. I think you might be smarter than your father. You should stick with me, I could show you a few things.”

“Are you serious?” Xander look at Jim in horror.

“For once, yeah, I am, kid. I know a great mind when I see one.” Jim went to ruffle Xander’s hair again, but thought twice when the kid glared at him with the same death look that John had so perfectly mastered.

“Listen, Jim.” Xander suddenly seemed much older than his 8 years. “I don’t know what your game is, I don’t know why you’re doing this, but clearly it’s to get back at Ada for something.”

“Well, actually…”

“I’m not finished.” Xander crossed his arms and glared at Jim. “Whatever reason you had for kidnaping and hurting my dad, well, it’s dumb. You’re only pissing my father off. He’ll come for me, just like he came for dad.”

“Will he now?” Jim looked at Xander with a cold hard look. “Even after he sent you off with me, so he could be with his husband?”

“Y-yes. Of course he will.” Xander was less sure now.

“I could offer you the world, kid. Anything you wanted, any time, at your fingertips.”

“My parents already give me that…” Xander looked out the window, trying hard to ignore the voice of doubt in his head. He had been sent away this weekend, his parents had hardly talked with him when he called them last night, and now Ada had chosen John over him. Yes, John was badly injured, and would have died if not taken to the hospital right away. But Ada was a genius, surely he could have found a way to save both him and his dad.

Xander’s mouth suddenly went very dry, and Sherlock’s phone was burning a hole through his pocket. Part of him wanted to show Jim the phone, while the other part of him knew that Ada, Uncle Myc and Uncle Greg would come for him as soon as they could. Uncle Myc would have the entire British Secret Service looking for him in a matter of minutes.

Jim picked up a remote from the seat next to him and pressed a button. The partition between them and the driver went up. Xander cowered against the door, afraid of what was going to happen.

“Oh, don’t be boring. I’m not going to hurt you. If I wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t care who saw. Rather, I don’t like my men seeing me soft.” Jim sat back, hit another button and a small compartment opened up. “Want something to drink? I think we’ve got pop in there.”

“Why me?” Xander’s curiosity got the best of him. He paused to pop open a can of coke and take a long sip.  “Why do you want me. I’m nothing special. I’m not as smart as Ada, and I’m not as wise as dad. Why me?”

“Don’t underestimate yourself, kid. You’ve got more going for yourself than you realize. Do you even know who’s kid you are?”

“U-uh… what do you mean?” Xander was confused, but he didn’t like where this was going.

“Blood parent, kid! Do you know who your blood parent is?” Jim looked him square in the eye with such a piercing gaze that Xander felt he could see the back of his skull.

Xander absently played with a curl on his head and chewed on his lips while turning to look out the window, no longer being able to bear Jim’s stare anymore. He knew that his parents had him via a surrogate. He also knew that there was a chance he could be either John or Sherlock’s biological child. His blond hair always made him think he was John’s. But then there were his curls. His curls were identical to Sherlock’s.

“I could tell you, you know.” Jim pulled Xander away from his thoughts again.

“No, I don’t want to know.” Yes, Xander was curious, very curious. But his parents had a good reason for not telling him. They had promised him that on his 15th birthday they would tell him who’s biological child he was. For now though, they wanted him to become his own person. They were afraid if he knew, he’d feel he had to live up to that one parent's expectation.

“Kid, you’re no fun. Maybe you are more like him than you think.” Jim sighed, and popped open a can of coke for himself.

“More like who?” Xander tried to catch his question, but before he had the chance Jim was laughing.

“Why Sherlock, of course! Come on, you honestly didn’t know?” Jim took a long sip then made a face. “God, this stuff hurts your nose.”

Xander’s mind reeled. He was Sherlock’s? Not that it changed the way he felt about John… If he truly was Sherlock’s child, then why did he let Jim take his own flesh and blood? Why was he here… Was he better off with Jim? At least he knew where he stood with this creep.

 

~Sherlock and John~

 

Sherlock felt like he was going mad. He hadn’t heard anything from Greg or Mycroft in over an hour, and John was in surgery. Their friend, Mary, was one of the attending nurses. So Sherlock knew that John was in good hands. Sherlock looked down at his feet, surprised that he hadn’t worn a hole in the floor from all of his pacing. Sitting down he bounced his legs and drummed his fingertips on the arm of the chair.

The vibration from Greg’s phone startled him. Greg had giving him his phone so they could stay in contact.

_“Yes, hello?”_ Sherlock snapped into the phone, nerves on the verge of shattering.

_“Sherlock!”_ The familiar raspy voice crooned through the phone.

_“Harry, you got my message?”_ Sherlock rolled his eyes, by the sound of it, she was drunk.

_“Yup!”_ Harry giggled, then stopped suddenly as if she remembered why she was on the phone.  _“Awful business, is he ok?”_

_“I don’t know, Harry. He’s in surgery now, has been for the better part of an hour.”_

_“That’s good…”_ Harry said absentmindedly.

_“No, Harry! It isn’t good. And if you care so little about your brother to drink yourself stupid, why bother calling? It’s bad enough he’s hurt, now he has to deal with you if he recovers? OH AND BY THE WAY.”_ Sherlock shouted into the phone, _“Your nephew has been kidnapped”_  Sherlock hung up, huffed in annoyance and shoved the phone back into his pocket.

Almost immediately the phone buzzed again. Cursing he fished the phone out of his pocket, it was Harry again.

_ “What now, Harry!” _

_“Sh-sherlock”_ Harry slurred. _“Listen… I’m sorry…”_

_ “Harry, we don’t want your apologies. We want you, off the booze. Is that too much to ask?” _

There was silence on the other end.

_“Call me back when you’re sober and have something to say. I’ll text you when I know about John.”_ Sherlock threw the phone down on the chair next to him and closed his eyes.

~30 minutes later~

  
“Sherlock?” Mary’s voice startled him away from his mind palace. “Sherlock…?”

The instant Sherlock looked into Mary’s eyes he knew everything would be ok somehow. John pulled through. Sherlock flung his arms around Mary and let out a sob.

“He’s alright then? He’ll make it?”

“Yeah, he pulled through, Sherlock. He’s awake, if you want to go talk to him.”

“Of course I do! Where is he?”

“He’s in a recovery room for now, he’ll be moved to a more permanent room once we’re sure he’s stable.”

“Yes, but which one?” Sherlock was growing impatient, he needed to see John.

“Follow me, and do keep your voice down, It was all I could do to convince them to let you in to see him so soon after surgery. You guys have about 10 minutes, ok?” Mary pulled back the curtain, nodded to Sherlock and left. Sherlock walked quickly to John’s bed, sat on the edge and took his hand.

“Hi.” Sherlock brought John’s hand to his lips and brushed them against his knuckles gently.

“Hi.” John’s voice was hoarse and distant.

“I thought I’d lost you…” Sherlock tried his best to hold back the tears, but to no avail.

“Hey… I’m right here.” John wiped a tear from Sherlock’s face.

“John, why are you always the strong one? Even like this… you’re always so strong.”

“It’s just a flesh wound.” John tried to smile, but winced when he felt the stitches on his lip tug. “Be honest, how bad is it, Sherlock? No one has told me, not even Mary.”

“Bad. Really bad, John. If I hadn’t gotten you to the hospital when I had…” Sherlock looked away, unable to finish his sentence. Getting up he looked at the chart at the foot of John’s bed.

“Let’s see…. Leg is broken in...2 places, you have 5 broken ribs, you have 25 stitches on your temple, 3 on your lip, you had a punctured lung, and massive internal bleeding.”

“Did they have to put a pin in my leg?”

“Ummm…” Sherlock flipped a page, “yes, they did.”

“Bloody fantastic! Sherlock?” John looked Sherlock straight in the eye. “Please tell me, that I only dreamt about Xander being there with us, with Jim.”  Sherlock’s face fell, and he tightened his grip on John’s hand.

“No, you didn’t. Our son traveled by himself from the cottage to london. Jim and his men got him when he got to our flat. We arrived minutes after Jim got him. Long story short…” Sherlock looked at John, guilt radiating off of him, “Jim made me choose between saving you, or saving Xander. I don’t know what he want’s with him, John!” Sherlock was starting to panic, afraid that John would reject him for letting their son down.

“Are Greg and Mycroft looking for him?” John closed his eyes and sight, but didn’t pull his hand away from Sherlock.

“Yes, and I slipped my phone into Xander’s pocket. Mycroft can track his movements.”

John nodded gently, then opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock. “Hey, I’m not mad at you. You did what you had too. Your brother will have everyone looking for him.”

“Oh, John… you never cease to surprise me.” Sherlock let in to his emotions, and his shoulders started softly shaking with tears.

“Hey, Sherlock…” John’s voice was soft and warm. “Oh, what I would give to hold you.”

“Would a kiss suffice, Mr. Holmes?” Sherlock offered a weak smile and bent down to plant a soft kiss on the corner of John’s mouth. John raised a hand to Sherlock’s head and held his face close for a minute.

“I love you, Sherlock Holmes, and I believe in you. Now go catch that bastard and bring our son home. Don’t worry about me, Mary will take good care of me.”

“I will, husband, I promise. I’ve got Greg’s phone. Use Mary’s to call me, yeah?” John nodded, stroked Sherlock’s cheek briefly before lowering his hand.

Just then Mary appeared at the curtain. Times up, boys. I’m sorry, but John really needs to rest. He’s not out of the woods yet. Sherlock nodded, gave John one more kiss, then got up. Wrapping his arms around Mary he sighed.

“Thank you. And thank the doctors for me. And Mary, John doesn’t have a phone, may he use yours if he needs it? Jim has Xander, and I’ve got to help my brother find him.”

“Yeah, of course Sherlock. If there’s anything I can do to help…”

“You’re doing it by keeping my husband safe, Mary.” Sherlock lowered his voice and steered Mary away from John’s bed. “I know you haven’t always been a nurse, and I assume that the gun you keep in your locker isn’t legal. Get it, keep it on you. I fear that Jim might come back for John. And that this time he won't be so forgiving.”

Mary’s eyes grew wide, but she said nothing. She simply nodded and looked over at John. “I’ll keep him safe.”

“Thank you, doll.” Sherlock kissed her on the forehead, gave one last weak smile to John, then briskly walked out of the room. Sending a quick text to Harry, Sherlock dieled Mycroft’s number he sighed.

“John’s fine. He’s nearly out of the woods. Mary will watch him.”

“Good, Sherlock. I’m honestly glad.”

“Thanks Mycroft. Now, where are with finding Xander?”

“I’m afraid it’s hard to tell. They drove around London for a while. I’ve lost signal, last signal we got from them was 5 minutes ago. It seems that your phone has been turned off.”

“Where was that?” Sherlock raced outside the hospital, and jumped into the car that Mycroft had lent him.

“Euston Railway Station.”

“FUCK!” Sherlock slammed his hand on the steering wheel and took off into traffic. “Mycroft, we cannot let him leave London!”

“Already on it, brother. All transit out of London has been stopped. We will catch him.”


	7. Train Job

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all have enjoyed this. We've had a ton of fun writing it, and we're sad to see it end. But my other fics will thank me when I finally post this last chapter!

**~Sherlock~**

Sherlock threw the car in park before it had come to a complete stop. It lurched and the geers made an awful sound. Throwing the car door open he nearly hit a woman in his rush to the door. 

Just inside the station he saw Greg and Mycroft. Greg was pacing back and forth, hand in his hair, Mycroft had his phone pressed to his ear. Judging by the look on his face, the person on the other end was getting an earful.

“Where is he?” Sherlock shouted, running through the station. Greg snapped his head up, and paled at the sight of Sherlock. He said nothing, but pointed to the wall. There was something written in Xander’s handwriting. Sherlock sank to his knees and stared helplessly.

****__ “Of a nest of scorpions no survivor:  
****_With him I proved no bargain-driver,_  
 ****_With you, don't think I'll bate a stiver!_  
 **_And folks who put me in a passion  
_ ** ****_May find me pipe after another fashion.”_

 

  
“What does it mean? Mycroft only shakes his head when I ask.”

“It means that he’s gone with Jim.”

“Sherlock, we already knew this.”

“No, Greg!” Sherlock shouted as he threw his hands into his hair.” No, he’s gone with him! Willingly. This was Jim’s plan all along, Greg… He didn’t want to kill John, he wanted our son. And he wanted Xander to doubt us. Greg…” Sherlock’s voice dropped to a low whisper as tears started to run down his face. “He… he has my son.”

“A-are you sure, Sherlock?”

“Positive.” Sherlock looked up at Greg looking like a lost child. “How will I tell John that I lost our child? I told him we’d bring him home safe.”

“Sherlock, we’ll find him. Mycroft is on the phone now. He’s getting a list of every train that has left this station in the last hour. Mycroft has a helicopter on standby, the moment we locate them, we’ll be in the air.”

Greg placed his hand on Sherlock’s shoulder, trying to comfort him. But Sherlock shrugged it off, got up and punched the wall hard enough to leave blood in the dent on the wall. Lowering his voice to a deep, rumbling grown, Sherlock towered over Greg.

“I want my son found, I want him found now.” Seeing Greg cower Sherlock softened his look. “Please, Greg… please…” Sherlock sank against the wall, cradled his hurt wrist and let out a sob. “Please help me get my son back.”

“Oh, Sherlock,” Greg sank to the floor and sat down beside his brother-in-law. “Whatever resources I have, whatever resources Mycroft has, trust me, we’re using them. Trust me, I want my nephew back just as much as you want your son back.”

Mycroft walked over, took in the sight and sat down on the other side of Sherlock. Carefully picking Sherlock’s wrist he looked it over and tisked under his breath.

“It would appear you've broken it, again, Sherlock.” Sherlock just nodded. “We’ll find him, brother. I promise. Now, you should get yourself to a hospital, get that wrist looked at.”

“I’m fine, I’ll get it set when I bring Xander to see his father.”

“Uh, Sirs.” A young officer timidly walked up to the three men. “You’ll want to see this.” He was holding up a small evidence bag, and in it was Sherlock’s phone.

Sherlock winced and he tried to use his bad hand to push himself up off the ground, but his voice was even.

“Take me to where you found it. Now.” And as an afterthought, “Please.”

_  
_** ~Jim and Xander~ **

  
  


They sat in silence staring at each other. Both willing the other to talk first. All of a sudden “Stayin’ alive” echoed throughout the limo, starting both Jim and Xander. Jim gave a small smile at his phone before pressing it to his ear.

_ “Yes? Hello?” _

_ “He is with me, yes… Yes we will go home soon.” _

While Jim talked in the phone Xander was observing even inch of him. His face was less hard than the first time he had seen him. He almost seem relaxed now. He  couldn’t shake the nagging question in the back of his mind. Why was he so special to Jim, why did Jim want him? Why should he, Xander, in return want Jim? Xander decided it was best to play along, and see how much information he could gather out of Jim.

Jim had told him the truth though, unlike his parents, that much shocked Xander. His parents were always keeping things from him, claiming they were protecting him. And so far, Jim had not hurt him, yet the images of his dad on the floor in 221C wouldn’t go away. Jim had even told him the truth about what had happened on the roof all those years ago. His parents had never given him details, saying he was too young. But Jim knew that Xander wasn’t a baby anymore. Jim ended his call and looked at Xander the same way his Ada looked at him when he had some important news to share.

“What is it?”

“Excuse me?”

“You wanted to tell me something? You got that look…” Xander shrugged, “Ada gets that look too.”

“Oh… good, you are just like him, aren’t you? How interesting.” Jim gave his head a small shake, as if dismissing a thought. “Yes I wanted to tell you something, My.. ehem partner is eager to meet you, but I was wondering if you would want to. I know this is happening rather quickly.”

“I don’t mind… Uh, partner do you mean…?”

“My husband, yes. His name is Sebastian,  I think… at least I hope, that you will like him, he is a soldier like your dad.” Jim seemed uneasy, or was it uncertain. Xander could never tell the difference between the two. Where was Ada when you needed him?

Upon arriving at the station Xander was hopeful that he’d see one of Uncle Myc’s men waiting for them. His heart sank when he saw that his wasn’t true. He just had to hope that he had hit the right button on Ada’s phone, and that their conversation in the car had been successfully recorded.

Jim didn’t seem to care that there were cameras on him, watching their every move. Clearly this man had friends in high places. He walked right up to the ticket booth, placed both hands on the counter and drummed his fingers rhythmically. The clerk looked over her glasses at them, put her pen down and smiled.

“Where to, boys?” The way she talked reminded Xander of Uncle Greg’s friend Sally.

“Sheffield.”

“Right then… Here we are. Have a fun weekend with your dad.” She smiled sweetly at Xander.

“Oh! He’s not my dad.” Xander smile back, ignoring the sudden fire in Jim’s eyes. “We’re off to go visit my Uncle.” Flashing her one more smile he looked up sweetly at Jim. “Well, come on! Don’t want to miss the train!”

“J… Er, Uncle Jim, I need to use the bathroom.” It was mostly true. Xander hadn’t gone since leaving the cottage this morning, but he needed to find a place to stash the phone.

“What? Oh.. Yeah.” Jim looked around. “Loo is that way. Do.. You don’t need me to go in with you, right?”

“I’m eight years old,” Xander rolled his eyes, “Do you think you need to come in with me?”

Xander skipped into the bathroom, found a stall and started to think. Surly Uncle Myc would have his men check everywhere. But… “No, no time to second guess yourself, Xander..” he whispered to himself. “Hurry, before jim gets suspicious.”  Turning off the phone to save battery, Xander stuffed the phone in the bottom of a small trash bucket, covered it up with toilet paper and quickly used the loo and went out to find Jim.

For a brief moment, Xander didn’t see Jim when he left the loo. He allowed himself, for a split second, to think that he was free, that his parents had found him.  But then a hand clapped him on the back, and he had to force a smile.

“Ready?” Xander tried his best to sound excited.

“Yes, the train leaves in 10 minutes. I’d rather not miss it.”

 

**~Sherlock, Greg and Mycroft~**

 

Sherlock followed the man to the bathroom, Mycroft and Greg rushed after him.

“We found it here stuffed in the bottom of this small trash bucket, cover up with toilet paper.”

Sherlock quickly took the phone, glad that his brother’s men were so thorough with the search, he turned it on and looked at the photos, maybe Xander had left something there. He doubled tapped the home button, hoping that Xander hadn’t closed the apps.  “Voice Memos” was open. His heart skipped a beat as he opened it up.

“Mycroft, there’s a message here. From Xander….”  He steadied his hand and pressed play. Together the three men listened to the message. When they heard the name “Sheffield” Mycroft immediately got on his phone while Greg and Sherlock finished listening.

“Sherlock, I’m…” Greg ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, mate.”

“Sorry! Why are you sorry!” Sherlock was grinning. “This is the best news I’ve had all day!”

“W-what? How is your son falling for Jim good news?”

“Can’t you see?” Sherlock spun on his heels and started towards Mycroft. “He’s playing Jim! He’s buying himself, and us, time! By sweet talking Jim, he was allowed to hear where they were going! Can’t you see?!”  Greg shook his head and followed Sherlock.

“Well,that was..” Mycroft looked down his nose at Sherlock. “Well, who it was is unimportant. But, he’s enroute to Sheffield as we speak. There is a helicopter waiting for us,  we’ll follow the track and as long as they don’t jump train, we’ll have Xander back in under two hours. We’ve radioed all the conductors, and there is one that isn’t responding. That’s our first target.”

** ~In the helicopter~ **

  
Mycroft was sitting up front next to the pilot and Sherlock was in the back. Greg had stayed back at the station, that way one of them was grounded should any new developments come up. Sherlock was tapping his foot, face pressed against the window, furiously eyeing the tracks below them. Looking for any sign of his son.

“Sherlock, we’ve only been in the air for 10 minutes. It’s unlikely that we’ll find them this quickly.”

“Yes, thank you, Mycroft.” Sherlock rolled his eyes, even though he knew his brother couldn’t see. They sat in silence for another 15 minutes.

“Look!” Sherlock pointed directly ahead, “There it is!” Sure enough, just ahead was the express train, chugging along. “Can we radio it, or signal it to stop?”

Mycroft looked grim, flipped a few switches and tried to radio the train. Shaking his head he looked at Sherlock and said over the COM. “Nothing, Sherlock.”

“Then land on the tracks! I don’t care!”

Mycroft exchanged a look with the pilot who nodded and matched his speed with the train. “Brother, what you are about to see, never happened. Do you understand?”

“What are you..” Mycroft shot him a look and Sherlock shut his mouth and nodded.

Mycroft unbuckled his belt, threw on a pair of black leather gloves, threw his vest on the floor of the helicopter, slipped on goggles and stuffed a gun in his waistband.  Opening a bag at his feet that Sherlock hadn’t noticed he pulled out some rope and a harness. Securing the rope to the helicopter and then to himself he glanced over at Sherlock, nodded, and opened the door.

Sherlock watched in disbelief as his brother slipped out of the chopper, and gracefully lowered himself down onto the train. As soon as Mycroft had given the all clear the pilot pulled away and followed directly behind the train. They watched as Mycroft artfully walked along the roof of the train, found a hatch and disappeared into a car.

“Any way to reach him?” Sherlock asked the pilot hopefully.

“No sir, never with Mycroft. Not until the job is done.”

“Never? He does this often?”

“When the situation calls for it, Sir.” The young man shrugged.

“But… Mycroft,...” Sherlock just stared at the spot where Mycroft had disappeared. “What if he needs back up?”

“The White Rabbit never needs backup, sir. Nor is there ever an extraction plan for him, as one is never needed.”

Twenty minutes went by, and no word, no signal, nothing. Sherlock wanted out of the chopper. He wanted to go down there. He had tried once, but the pilot stopped him, saying how it was best if the “White Rabbit” was left alone.  At 25 minutes Sherlock looked up in surprise. 

“Is the train slowing down?”

The pilot looked down at the panel in front of him. “It would appear so. Good catch, Sir.”

A voice, Mycroft’s voice crackled through the radio. “Package acquired.  Please land for pickup.”

“Copy that, Sir.”

“What does that mean?” Sherlock’s heart was in his throat, he was afraid to be hopeful.

“It means we are to land.” Sherlock could tell he wouldn’t get anything else out of the man, so he sat back and bit his tongue.

The pilot expertly gauged how quickly the train would stop and found a suitable place to land. Once on the ground, Sherlock ducked under the propellers and ran towards the train, his mind racing. If Mycroft had Xander, why hadn’t they come out of the train?

Sherlock ran to the first door, and just as he was about to reach for it, the door opened and a small body jumped into his arms.

“I knew you would come for me, Ada! I just knew it! Oh, remind me to never upset Uncle Myc…” Xander wrapped his arms around Sherlock’s neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“I will always come for you. Always, Xander.”

“Ada,” Still holding on to Sherlock tight Xander pulled his face away. “how is dad.”

“He’ll be better once he sees you, Xander!” Sherlock held his son, reveling in the smell and the touch, trying hard to hold back the wave of emotions threatening to flood him.

“Xander, where is your uncle?”

“Inside, the conductor.”

“Well, let’s go find him.” Sherlock grinned as he placed his son down in the train, hopped up and took his sons hand.

“You’re ok… right? Jim didn’t hurt you?”

“Nope,” Xander shook his head. “I’m fine.”

Walking towards the engines Xander looked around. The train wasn’t empty, as he had expected. Curious faces peered out of cars and sleeper bunks.

“Xander, was Jim here when Mycroft found you?”

“No… He disappeared about ten minutes before that.”

“Dammit. He must have seen the helicopter.” Sherlock cursed his bad luck.

Mycroft met them about halfway down the train, he smiled wide when he saw Xander’s hand in Sherlock’s.

“All well and happy?”  Mycroft directed the question to Xander who just nodded and smiled.

“Mycroft… I don’t even know where to begin. Thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

“Anything for family, Sherlock.”

“No sign of Jim?”

“No. It seems he disappeared just before I got here. The conductor had no idea anything was amiss. It seems he didn’t realize his radio wasn’t working.”

“Ada, Uncle?” Xander tugged on Sherlock’s arm. “Can we go home? I want to see dad.”

“Of course, luv. Come on, White Rabbit, let’s go?”

“White Rabbit?” Xander looked confused.

“Apparently your uncle has a code name.”

 

**~At the Hospital, outside John's room.~**

 

“Xander, stay here with Mary. I’ll come get you in a minute.” They were standing outside John’s hospital room, and Xander was pouting up at Sherlock.

“But..”

“No buts.”

“Butts…” Xander giggled, forgetting that he was trying to be mad at Sherlock.

“I’m just going to see if he’s awake. Ok?”

“Fine.” Xander crossed his arms and pouted again. “But I won't like it.”

“Of course not.” Sherlock knocked once, and pushed the door open and slipped in, leaving the door open a crack behind him.

“John? Are you awake?”

“Mmmm.” John’s voice betrayed the amount of pain he was in.

“Hello, luv.” Sherlock gently sat at the edge of the bed. “I have a visitor for you, are you well enough?”

“Oh god yes!” John tried to sit up, but Sherlock stilled him with a look.

“Xander,” Sherlock called over his shoulder,  “you can come in.”

Xander timidly walked in, and  stood behind Sherlock, not wanting to look at John’s face.

“Hey…” John said softly, “It’s ok, Xander. Come here, let me look you over.”

Xander walked towards John and once he was within reach John pull him in and gave him a huge hug. Wincing slightly as Xander wrapped his arms around his father’s neck.

“I’m sorry Dad, I’m so so sorry.” he was in the verge of tears, "I never should have left the cottage! I shouldn't have left Auntie."

“It’s okay son, this is not your fault. None of this is your fault. All that matters is you are here now, we are together.” John extend a hand to Sherlock, and he pulled them both in for a gentle hug.  

Sherlock kissed Xander’s head, truly relief that this was all done. John will be fine, and his son is alive and well, life couldn’t be better. He was going to catch Moriarty, but for now he was going to enjoy this moment with his family.

Greg and Mycroft were leaning against the door, holding each other's hand.

“They are a beautiful family.” Greg said to his husband, with a smile in his face.

“I can’t wait to have our own.” Mycroft said with a distracted voice and Greg’s eyes widen and look at him smiling, then dragged him into the room.

“Gavin, brother, thank you for helping us today, without you two we wouldn’t be together again."

“Greg brother, and it was no problem. There was no question that we had to get Alexander back, I…. ahem... I love you all.”

"Whohoo" There was a knock on the door and Xander rushes into the arms of Mrs. Hudson.

"Auntie...." Xander started sobbing, "I'm... I'm so sorry. I never should have left you. I.."

"Alexander Holmes. Not another word. I just wanted to pop in, glad everyone is ok." She patted Xander's head and looked around. "As I'm sure you guys will sweet talk the doctors into releasing John, I'll see you all home for dinner."

"Can I actually go home?" John looked at Sherlock hopefully.

Mycroft rolled his eyes and sighed when Sherlock raised an eyebrow questioningly in his direction.

"I'll go see what I can do."

 

**~later that night~**

****  
  


John was positioned carefully on the sofa. Sherlock had cleared off the table in the sitting room and everyone else was positioned around it, eating a fabulous dinner made by Ms.Hudson.

Soon everyone had heard each others stories, though John had spared them most of the details from his ordeal for Xander's sake.  After everyone had finished eating Greg and Mycroft took their leave.  

Xander helped Sherlock clean up, when they were done Sherlock looked at his watch and then at Xander.

"Bedtime. No arguing."

"Yes, Ada.  Goodnight." Xander hugged Sherlock, went over to John and kissed him on the cheek. "Goodnight, dad. I love you."

"Goodnight, luv." John grabbed Xander's arm and pulled him close enough to kiss. "Sweet dreams."

As Xander was climbing the stairs he stopped and turned around.

"Dad, Ada?"

"Yes?"  Both Sherlock and John said together.

"You don't regret having me, do you?"

"Oh god, Xander!" Sherlock was at the foot of the stairs in seconds. "Never once, Xander. And don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise." Xander smiled and walked back up the stairs.

Sherlock pulled a chair up next to John, grabbed a copy of "The Hobbit" and smiled at John.

"I'll read to you until you're asleep. I'll be right here all night, John. Right by your side."  

John smiled and reached for one of Sherlock's hands.

"Hey... You did good today. I love you."

"I love you too, idiot."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And comes the end of Quest for Mr. Holmes. I will be writing a short chapter about life in 221B a few weeks after these events. But, I need to step away from this fic just for a little while!
> 
> Thank you to everyone who helped me with this, (Especially Daisha!!!!!)
> 
> And to everyone who's read it.
> 
> Love you all!


End file.
